Through Trial and Triumph
by I'mprettyawesome
Summary: What happens when Dovahkiin and Hawke forge an alliance and get involved in Skyrim's Civil war? Surely nothing good for the other side! Rated T for language and violence. Sort of slow in the beginning but it picks up
1. Chapter 1

Hey, sort of a story I'm putting on the back burner, so maybe it'll be a while before the next chapter. R&R maybe?

I made my way through the busy streets of Windhelm, followed by eight other people, to my home, Hjerim. I paused for a moment before opening the door. 'Should I really let eight strangers stay in my house while I'm away all day? I mean sure, Kalder's here, but he doesn't really do anything except eat me out of house and home and do errands occasianaly.' I pondered on this topic for a moment. They might be thieves. I have some pretty valuable stuff in there, not to mention access to maps, books, spells, weapons, and armor. They could just get supplied and go rob a bunch of places.

"Hey!" I shouted at these strangers. They turned around to face me.

"Is this your home? Oh, it's so big! But I'm sure it's lovely!" a girl, she looked like an elf, stared at me with huge green eyes. I looked back at her.

"Yes, this is my home, and yes, it is both big and lovely. I must warn you though, I'm a dragon, and if you so much put one gold piece of mine in your pockets, I will tear you apart from limb to limb in two seconds using only my voice." Some of these strangers stared, mouths agape, some of them obviously didn't believe me, and the elf girl looked very confused.

"Are you saying that you are a dragon? You don't look like one… and you can talk! If you're a dragon, why do you live in a house? My, this land is so different from Kirkwall." Another one of the strangers, one all of them seemed to respect very much, stepped forward from the group. She touched the elf on the shoulder. The elf turned to face her. "Do you need something, Hawke?"

"Merrill, I will do the talking." The elf Merrill seemed to lose a bit of the confidence she had before. She replied with a nod and stepped back.

"We are not from this land. I know not of what you speak." I sighed.

"Alright, step back. I will show you what I mean by 'I am a dragon'." I tilted my head at the sky. A few seconds passed without anything happening. Then, I shouted "Fus Ro Dah!" and the very air seemed to bend under the pressure and power. "So that is what I mean when I say I am a dragon." I opened the door. "So, do you want to come in?" Hawke smiled.

"I would love too.

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I watched as these people helped set the table at the order of Hawke. They were strange, very strange, but I liked their leader, and, more or less, everyone else. There was Isabela, the pirate slut. She was funny. I liked her well enough. There was Aveline, the one who was guard captain back where they called Kirkwall. I was comfortable around her, but didn't like her as much as Hawke or Isabela. Then there was that elf, Merrill. She seemed stupid at first, and stupid people irritate me, but this Merrill was just so lovable and cute that I soon got over that. I went out of my way to make sure Merrill was happy. Then there was that weird Anders-Justice guy, who seemed surprised and overjoyed that the mages there didn't suffer persecution, only distrust. Honestly, what a stupid thing, being surprised at free mages. All mages everywhere were free, of that I am absolutely sure. Oh, and there was the tattooed elf, Fenris. He was kinda cute. Not my type, and Hawke obviously had already claimed him, but still cute. There was Sebastian, dressed in the shiniest white armor I had ever seen. He wasn't even a knight! I didn't think it was fair that this 'exiled chantry boy prince' as Hawke had described him, got such nice armor and knights got this bleak gray stuff. No, it was not fair at all. Lastly, there was a dwarf, of all things! Everyone had thought the dwarves were extinct, but no, here one was sitting and talking to her! His name was Varric. He was…not like the old tales told the dwarves to be and he didn't seem to know who the Dwemer were either. I was quite skeptical at first as to whether this odd little man was actually a dwarf, but in the end they convinced me. A strange band of warriors, indeed. (Although Merrill was hardly a warrior) I wondered if my house would be big enough. I pondered moving some of them to my other houses, but quickly abandoned the thought seeing as they probably wouldn't like living so far away from each other in a land they knew nothing about. Perhaps transferring to Solitude where my home was bigger was a good idea, seeing as ten people in one house wasn't the most spacious thing, a bigger home would be nice. It would take a lot of horses to move everyone, though, and I was reluctant to spend that much money on the smelly things. The best solution might be traveling on foot. It was a dangerous road, but heck, everyone loves adventures, right? My thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of shattering glass. I leapt to my feet and raced into the kitchen. What I saw was one of my best glass drinking mugs reduced to a small pile of dangerous shards and Kalder looking sheepishly at the mug and then at me.

"Damn it Kalder, I told you a thousand times to only use the glass ones when I say so!"

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I was astonished to see everyone be sitting down and ready to eat after I got back from running to the blacksmith's. I sat down at my usual place at the head of the table and was pleased to see Isabela, Merrill, and Hawke all sitting at my end. I looked down at what was on my plate and my smile quickly disappeared. There was this dragon scale grey goo jiggling in the middle of my plate. I looked up and glared at Kalder.

"Kalder, what the hell did you do in the kitchen?! It looks like some random dragon took a shi-" I cleared my throat, remembering not to swear in front of guests, "Well, never mind, all that matters is that you better get that beef stew I was making for us on the table immediately and if you ever screw up food like this again-"That's when I noticed Isabela and Merrill stifling giggles and realized I had just been tricked. I punched Isabela playfully on the shoulder and got up to dump…whatever it was in the trash bins and put actual food on the table.


	2. Chapter 2

I smiled as Merrill's brow furrowed and she cocked her head at Kalder.

"What is a 'horker'?" She had made the mistake of asking Kalder what was in the stew tonight. So far, he had only told her about three ingredients, but she didn't know what any were, so it was more of a lesson about Skyrim's creatures and plants than about cooking. Kalder seemed to be sick of explaining, and he walked away. Merrill still seemed puzzled, so I shouted over to her

"It's something that tastes good in stew." She seemed to be satisfied with that answer, so I directed my attention back to my mead. Delicious mead.

I watched these newcomers. They seem to be a pretty tight group. Something in me wished that I had friends like that.

I think I gave everyone too much mead. They're all dancing on my table. Kalder is screeching like a housewife that they had better not ruin the table and saying that apparently it belonged to Ulfric Stormcloak's mum… yeah, that sounds pretty accurate. Isabela is getting off the table. Maybe someone's finally sober? No, scratch that, if anyone would be sober it would be Fenris. From what I can see, he handles his liquor quite well. Maybe if Sanguine had come up to him and asked him about that drinking contest, he would have stayed sober and not have married a hagraven. I still shudder at that.

Isabela grabs my arm and motions for me to come and join them. I shake my head; as much as I would like to, I don't belong with these people. Isabela grunts and surprisingly pulls me up out of my chair with relative ease. I guess I haven't gained _too_ much weight from all the sweetrolls I've been eating. Still, I should probably cut back on all the pastries and stuff. My armor is getting kind of tight around the thighs.

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I don't know what's gotten into me! Somehow, I'm dancing hand in hand with a pirate whore and a cute 'Dalish' (what in the dark void is a 'dalish'?) mage elf, on my highly valuable mahogany table. Oh, and my best silver dishes are flying everywhere. I would be having a lot more fun if I wasn't worried for Merrill and Fenris. They're not wearing any shoes, and I really don't want either of them to step on a knife or something. From what I see, Fenris hates magic ( and I'd have to use healing magic on him, you don't just leave a knife in someone's foot) and I have my qualms about telling them I dabble in magic arts. I probably shouldn't ruin a chance of an alliance before it starts.

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It's really hard to find a bed for everyone, and I end up going to the blacksmith's because we're short on bedrolls. He's hesitant to sell me all six bedrolls, but a little extra gold remedies that. Ah, the wonders of gold.

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Fenris and Hawke get the upstairs bedroom, Varric gets the guest bedroom, and Kalder insists on keeping his room. Damn selfish Housecarl. So I set up some bedrolls on the table, and some in the kitchen because it's warmest in there and Hjerim gets pretty cold at night. I end up in the study, but I'm okay with that because I have to plan out the route to Solitude anyway, and all my maps are in the Study.

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This is harder than I thought. The most remote route (I want to keep them away from people who might ask questions, questions are bad) goes right through the Silver Hand's pass, and I'd rather not risk them finding out I'm a werewolf. You can't just have people finding out you're a werewolf, it raises problems and whenever I have to solve problems, people end up dying. However, the only route that doesn't go through the Silver Hand's camp goes through almost every little village in Skyrim. That would raise to much fuss over them. I'll have to consult Hawke about this in the morning. Right now I need some sleep.

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Blood is covering my eyes, and I can only see things in a red tint. Searing pain passes through me as I can feel my bones stretching and cracking under the strain. I see my hands and arms and legs twisting, and what feels like fire seems to pop out from under my skin. No; not fire, fur. I try to scream but only a great, lonely howl emerges from my snarling lips.

I wake up with a gasp, and I'm all sweaty. Being powerful comes with a price, and never being able to have a restful sleep is the curse of a werewolf. It may sound petty to you, but it is much worse than you could ever imagine. If I had known that this happened I would never have become a werewolf. I mean, I'm a fucking dragon, what made me think I would need the power of the Wer?

My eyes start to clear up and adjust to the darkness, and I see someone there.

"Are you alright?" I recognize the voice to be Merrill's. She mutters some strange language and little light wisps blink into exsistence and swirl around her, illuminating her concerned face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Shit. That was such a bad lie even I could see through it. Merrill comes and sits down by me.

"You had a nightmare, didn't you?" I nod my head and she puts her arm around my shoulders. She gives me a gentle squeeze and smiles at me.

"Whenever I had a nightmare, my best friend Mahariel would come and make me talk about it with her. She always insisted it would make me feel better. I don't know if it did or not, but it always helped me get back to sleep." I tried to change the subject. I didn't want to talk about my werewolf dreams, not even to Vilkas or Aela. Aela was the closest thing I had to a best friend, and Vilkas... there was just something about him that made him so relaxing to talk to. Talos, that sounded cheesy.

"Who is Mahariel?"

"My best friend and clanmate."

"What happened to her?"

"She got tainted by creatures we call darkspawn. A Grey Warden came and said he could save her; but she would have to join the Wardens. So she did. This was during something we call a Blight, when the Archdemon, who is like a darkspawn king, makes an attack on the surface world. He had to be stopped, and the Wardens were the only ones that could kill him. They had to sacrifice one of their own, though; the person who struck the killing blow to the Archdemon would die. And she struck the killing blow, she gave her life to save Fereldan and all of Thedas." Merrill sniffled.

"I'm so sorry." And I was. It must be terrrible to lose your best friend. "How old was she?"

"Only seventeen." I was dismayed and impressed at that. How could someone so young have their life taken away so suddenly? And how did they have the courage to sacrifice themself for the good of a nation that was so racist to their kind? I only noticed then that Merrill was sobbing. I hugged her and let her cry into my shoulder.

"She was so young! How could the Creators be so unfair? It wasn't fair! She deserved to live! She shouldn't have died!" I rocked her back and forth, and gradually the crying subsided. Her short, raspy breaths were transformed to smooth even ones, and she fell asleep on my lap.

"Sweet dreams of endless peace." I whispered to the elf sleeping in my lap. She snuggled closer to me, and I rested my chin on her head. She was soft and warm, and gradually, I fell asleep too.

Varric watched from the partially open door.

"Maybe Daisy finally found a friend."

Maybe I finally found a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I changed some things in the storyline, like when stuff happens and stuff like that. **

* * *

When I wake up, Merrill isn't in my lap anymore and I am damn hungry. I stumbled into the kitchen, still only half awake, to find Hawke sitting at the table and a place set for me. Upon my questioning look, she explained,

"I heard you wake up. I figured I'd set a place for you and we could talk. You probably have some questions, as do I."

I sit down, lean back in my chair, say a quick prayer to Talos, and dig into the food. Hawke is a good cook. "You ask first," I say with my mouth full of food, "you're the guest."

She leans back in her chair, swings her legs up on the table, and burps. Then she asks, "What's the beef with your husband?" The Nord Mead I'm drinking almost sprayed out of my mouth, but I quickly swallow it.

"I have no husband. I'm single. And I aim to stay that way."

"Oh?" Hawke says, "Then who is Kalder to you? And why do you wish to remain alone?"

"Oh, Kalder? You thought he was my... oh, no, not _him_!" I laugh. "Kalder is my housecarl. I can't really kick him out. And as for remaining alone... Well, I have certain" I pause for a moment, trying to find the right word, "duties, and, er, difficulties, that I can fix better without a husband to support." Hawke nods and sips her mead.

"I understand that. What's a housecarl?" I sighed, not really knowing how to explain. I think for a moment.

"A housecarl is a member of the Elite Militia. They're trained in the Elite Militia to be bodygaurds, if you will, for thanes and high nobles. I have little use for him, but my case is special. He's a bit stuck up, if you know what I mean. You'd think he was an Imperial, not a Nord. What about you," I ask, not wanting to further explain all the little details of society, "Where's your husband?"

Hawke sniggers. "How do you know I don't have a wife?" I narrow my eyes, and think for a moment. "You just don't seem the type."

"I guess Fenris is the closest I have to a husband. We've never actually said our vows, though. It's easier like this. There are many, many processess you have to go through, lots of papers to be signed, the signed approval paper of at least one parent, and both of ours are gone, you have to swear by the Maker you will stay with your significant other forever, and I won't do that."

"You won't do what?" I ask, "Stay with him or swear by the Maker?"

"Swear by the Maker." she spits out. "The Maker has done nothing good to me, why should I take vows by him?"

"What has th Maker done to you to make you so angry at him?" I ask, interested by her spite.

She swings her feet off the table and pulls up her chair, so she's looking me straight in the eyes.

"The supposedly good and gracious Maker has given me magic. In my land, that means you run, forever or you die. The wonderful Maker took my Father away when I was just fifteen. The ever loving Maker has cursed my homeland with a Blight, corrupting my home and taking my friend Mahariel away to die to end it. He sent the vile darkspawn to _my _village, to_ my home, _so they could destroy it, and while we were running, an ogre took my only sister and pounded her on the ground, _and I will always hold that knowledge that I could have stopped it._" Hawke was almost shouting now, "He took my family and dumped in a slum, forced me to venture down into that fucking cursed pit, _where the only brother I had, the only sibling that was left, died a monster! __**I had to put the blade through his**_ **heart!"** She screamed, tears threatening to drop from her eyes. I tried to calm her down, but it was to late. "

"And then, my Mother was captured by a man who violated and murdered her, who resurrected her because she reminded him of his dead wife. _She died in my arms!__ **I **was too late_! **_I_**_ failed her!"_ Just then, Fenris came thundering down the stairs and put a needle through her arm, injecting her with a clear, bubbly liquid. She went limp in his arms.

"She has led a very hard life for someone as young as her. Sometimes she needs sedatives to ensure she does not go into a frenzy and harm people." He explained.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's not your fault." Fenris reassured me, laying her down on the couch to sleep the drugs off.

It felt like my fault.


End file.
